


Leech Lord

by crookedneighbour



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble, Execution, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 17:43:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13463298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/pseuds/crookedneighbour
Summary: A short piece where Domeric Bolton is the Bolton Arya serves at Harrenhal. Inspired by a fan art.





	Leech Lord

**Author's Note:**

> Inspo: 
> 
> https://zarinfix.tumblr.com/post/170041941017/domeric-if-he-survived-would-be-a-wonderful

Arya returned to the young Lord Bolton’s chambers. He was quiet and clever. He’d seen through her disguise after all. She’d expected he’d be almost done with his leeching by the time she’d returned. He claimed it kept his mind cool during interrogations.

  
Instead she found him fully dressed, the blind spiteful boy she’d seen bound on his knees slumped on his back. Qyburn and a few Freys stood in the periphery as Domeric Bolton surveyed the cler leeches that had grown pink and fatted on the fresh blood.

  
“I suppose he didn’t know anything then. How dissapointing… Perhaps some music to lighten the mood,” he sighed.

  
His pale eyes turned to Arya.

  
“You look frightened, girl,” he noted, a slight smile on his face.

  
“I’m not.”

  
Arya stepped closer to make a point of it. Lord Bolton tapped the side of his head in a gesture of playful forgetfulness. He was a bit older than Robb was but still young with an air of charm about him.

  
“Of course! You must be confused then. Why would a Bolton simply not flay his captives?”

  
Domeric stood over her. She’d already run her mouth too much, but she couldn’t help it.

  
“Lord Eddard Stark forbade it, you see. And as I march sworn to his son, it would be deceitful of me to fall back on our old ways the moment his back is turned, no?”

  
Arya’s heart felt heavy at the mention of her father. Lord Bolton’s eyes scanned over her, searching for something. If he knew she would have to run.

  
One of the Freys let out a brief chuckle. Qyburn cleared his throat.

  
“You should send word to your father. I’m sure he longs to prove his allegiance to the Young Wolf,” the old man suggested.

  
Domeric turned from Arya, and looked to the dead boy on the floor.

  
“I’m sure he does.”


End file.
